Gone
by tonks42392
Summary: Zack and Cody are in some deep depression. Kurt has disappeared and their only clue to find him is a note written in a dead employee's blood. Rated T for violence and death. Actually, just death. Please R&R!
1. He's Dead

**_Disclaimer: I do not own TSL! If I did, I would be gloating over it and rubbing it in your face. Oh, and I'd also be living in Hawaii and have servants write this story for me._**

**Chapter 1:**

**He's Dead**

"5-4-3-2-1!" The class counted down and burst out the door just as the bell rang to signal the end of the day. Over 500 shoes were once again pounding the tiled floor as the students of Boston Middle School left for Christmas vacation.

"Zack!" a small voice called from somewhere in the middle of the swarm of students.

"So," Zack Martin continued, ignoring the voice, "anytime you need somebody to talk to, you just call Z-"

"Zack," Cody Martin panted catching up with his twin brother, "Mom is waiting for us outside and she says even though you deny it, you need a hat and mittens-oh," he stopped, seeing who Zack was talking to, "hi Sarah."

"I'll see you around Zack," Sarah said, smiling, and left.

"Nice job, geek," Zack said, turning to face his brother, "I was this close," he held up his forefinger and thumb an inch apart, "to getting the hottest girl in school to go out with me."

"I thought you didn't believe in Christmas miracles," Cody joked, then, after getting a threatening look from Zack, ran as fast as his legs could take him. Once he was outside, he dipped his hand into the snow and threw a freshly-made snowball at Zack as he came out of the building.

"Boys!" Carey Martin shouted, approaching the now wrestling twins, "it's Christmas. At least try to be nice to each other!"

The car ride back to The Tipton seemed to relax Zack and Cody a little bit and the instant Carey had pulled into the employee parking lot, they jumped out and ran into the lobby, heading for the candy counter.

"Hit us with some sugar!" Zack demanded to Maddie, and then added in his most romantic voice, "Sweet thang." Cody rolled his eyes.

"Just came in today," Maddie responded, "whatcha want?"

"You, along with dinner and a movie," Zack answered as Maddie gave him the in-your-dreams look, "Fine, fine, fine. Geez, Maddie, have some Christmas spirit. Two chocolate Charleston Chews, please."

"Here ya go," Maddie handed over the candy and then added, "$1.50 please."

"Keep the change," Zack claimed, giving Maddie two dollars, and winked.

As the two boys got into the elevator, Zack thought he saw Maddie return his wink, but he couldn't be sure.

…..

"Boys," Carey said, trying to draw their eyes away from the TV, "let's eat."

They didn't budge.

"C'mon, guys," Carey repeated, now a little annoyed, "I said let's-"

She was interrupted by the phone ringing. Knowing Mr. Moseby was the only one that ever called; she picked it up, "Hello?"

The line went dead. _That's odd,_ she thought.

"Okay," Carey now went over and physically turned off the TV. In return she got groans from mostly Zack, but she wouldn't stand for it. She had givin them more than enough time to watch television today.

"But Mom," Cody pleaded, "that was really interesting. A Mom and two kids were stabbed to death at a hotel not too far from here. They say that the killer escaped and they have a lead that he is now in Texas."

"That's not interesting," Carey disagreed, "that's the most awful thing that could happen to anyone. Just imagine how their father must feel."

"You're right," the twins said, and then Zack added, "Mom, can we eat? I'm starving."

"Now you want to eat!" Carey just couldn't win tonight, "Well, we're having spaghetti and meatballs. C'mon guys." They all sat down at the table while Cody started talking about a science fair he wanted to enter and Zack started to snore.

…..

Cody was worried. What his mom had said had really triggered something in his mind,_ just imagine how their father must feel._ What if it was some family they knew? Or, even worse, what if it was them? Dad would be here in the morning so they could go on a Christmas vacation together, but what if he had arrived and him, Mom, and Zack were all dead? He shuttered. _No, _he thought, _that could never happen._ _Our room is locked and…and…_ The reporter had said that the family was murdered in their room. He suddenly felt very cold. He buried deeper under his blankets and slowly drifted off to an uneasy sleep.

…..

Carey awoke with a start, thinking she was going to be late. Then, realizing it was Saturday; she smiled and was just about fall asleep when the phone rang.

"Who the heck would call at 7:30 on a Saturday morning?" Carey said to the empty living room. She picked up the phone and managed to croak, "Hello?"

The line went dead. _They should really get caller I.D. here,_ she thought and made to get back in bedwhen Zack came out of his room.

"Mom?" he asked, giving Carey a look that was way too sweet for Zack, "it's Saturday, the twenty-second of December."

"Yes, I know," Carey replied, puzzled, "are you telling me that you just learned the days of the week?"

"No," Zack said, still being too sweet for Carey to take him seriously, "I was just telling you that Dad should be here now," then he added in a much more Zack-ish tone, "Where is he?!?"

"Sorry honey," Carey admitted, "he called last night. His band had a last minute benefit Christmas concert," then, seeing Zack's look of disappointment, added, "But don't worry, he'll be here this afternoon. What some pancakes?"

"Sure," Zack responded, looking much happier, and he turned on the TV.

"Is Mom actually cooking?" Cody said, coming out of his room and rubbing his eyes.

"Don't worry," Zack reassured Cody, "we shouldn't have to call the fire department. It's just pancakes."

"Thanks guys," Carey chirped in, stirring chocolate chips into the pancake batter, "just for that, you get the honor of setting the table."

Just as they were putting plates on the table, the phone rang for the second time that morning.

"Don't-" Carey started to say as Zack picked up the phone, "pick that up," she finished kind of lamely.

"Hello?" Zack answered, "Oh, hi Arwin."

Carey let out a nice long breath, whoever was prank-calling before had stopped.

Cody turned his attention to Zack who had just gasped and said "Cool! We'll be right down."

Zack then hung up the phone and turned to Carey, "Mom, hold breakfast, Arwin wants to show us something cool."

The two boys hurried out of the room leaving Carey, still mixing pancake batter, looking disappointed.

Zack and Cody rushed down the hallway. They knew this was going to be pretty awesome because Arwin _never_ called; he always just came up to the room. Cody pressed the elevator button to go down and waited for it to reach the 23rd floor.

As soon as they entered the elevator, they saw it. At first, Cody thought it was Arwin fixing the elevator and Zack thought it was Esteban praying, but Zack turned out to be closer (although he was only half correct). Esteban was leaning against the wall of the elevator with a look of terror frozen on his face.

"Esteban?" Cody asked poking at him slightly.

They got no reply. Esteban appeared to loose his balance and landed lying face up. Both of the twins gasped in pure horror. Esteban wasn't praying, nor was he fixing the elevator. There was a knife stabbed into his chest right where his heart was. There was a steady trail of blood lightly gushing from the wound and a pool of blood now saturating his shirt. He also had a black eye and many bruises on his face and neck. He had been dead for a while.

Zack suddenly saw something. There was a note taped to Esteban's shirt. It smelt rather bad and it took Cody a minute to realize it was written in Esteban's blood.

_This is just the st**A**rt. I'm not done yet. This game has just **B**egun._

**_I hope you like it so far. Please review. I'll only update if I get at least 5 reviews! _**


	2. Questions and Secrets

**_Sorry for the delay, but I've been really busy! Oh, and also just wanted to warn you, there will be more death, so if you don't like gruesome stuff I suggest you stop reading this because the next chapter starts right now…_**

**Chapter 2:**

**Questions and Secrets**

Sam Turner rolled over in his oversized bed. He couldn't sleep; he had too much on his mind. Being a detective wasn't always easy, especially when it entails investigating the south side of Boston. Just this week, he had managed to break up a gang who were selling drugs, bust a house of prostitution, _and_ crack 3 cold cases. And to top it all off a mother and her 2 kids had been shot in a room at a Best Western Hotel. He turned back onto his side and let out a deep, long breath. He finally had a night to sleep and he was too busy recapping the week's events to do so.

Suddenly, his beeper went off. He looked at the clock and found a logical explanation why he had woken up; it was already 8:00. He quickly picked up his beeper and managed to say, "H-hello" in a scratchy voice.

"Turner," the voice at the other end of the line said, "this is urgent. A man by the name of Esteban Hudo something-something-something has just been found dead in an elevator at the Tipton Hotel. He was stabbed with what looks like a knife. We are almost positive that it's linked to the stabbing of the mother and kids at the Best Western."

"What evidence do you have to support this?" Sam Turner asked, now pulling off his pajamas and getting dressed.

"The wounds are in the same place, Sam," the voice replied, "right above the heart."

"Right," Sam said, trying to hold his beeper with his chin while putting on a shirt, "try and keep the press out of the way. I'll be there as soon as I can."

He hung up. _This is just what I need_, he thought, _a brutal murder linked to the killing of a mother and her children…On a Saturday morning!_ He was just about to go downstairs to grab an apple and head out the door, when he heard a small, familiar voice.

"Dad?"

It was his son, Marc. He was twelve with light brown hair, dark brown eyes, and freckles covering his nose and cheeks. He was quite small for his age, (only

4' 4") but didn't like to admit it. He was just starting to mature and was convinced that he should start shaving.

"Marc, what are you doing up?" Sam asked, eyeing his son with suspicion.

"Where are you going?" Marc asked, ignoring his dad's question.

"Just another case," Sam said, trying to be pleasant and, at the same time, hurry out the door, "Marc, why don't you come down and have some breakf-"

"Can I go with you?" Marc interrupted, his eyes showing eager looks of hopefulness.

"Sorry buddy," Sam replied, really needing to go now, "but this isn't a good one. Next case I get, ok?"

"You've said that the past four times," Marc said; his head bowed in disappointment. Then he looked up again, "Why can't I go with you?"

"Marc," Sam started, "you're still too young for-"

But Marc was no longer listening. He had turned back into his room before he let his dad lecture him. He _hated_ that! Why couldn't his dad understand? Marc wanted to be just like him, but how could he if he could never see what his dad actually _did_.

"Marc, listen," Sam went towards his son's room and stood in the doorway.

"Go away," Marc sobbed, his voice muffled by a pillow, "I don't even want to go anymore."

Sam sighed and glanced at his watch, then a jolt of guilt hit him; he had just wasted 15 minutes having a pointless conversation with his son. He had to go.

…..

Zack watched as reporters flooded into the Tipton trying to question Mr. Moseby. _Like he has any information_, Zack thought sarcastically, _we're the ones that found Esteban._ It was no use. All the reporters ignored him as they attempted to cross the police line that the cops had put up as soon as they had gotten the 911 call from Carey. He turned around and tried to get in the elevator, pushing through the crowds of reporters and police. He had just pushed the button when the door opened and Cody walked out.

"Wow," he said, watching 5 reporters tackling Mr. Moseby at once, "I didn't think it was going to get this violent." He quickly moved out of the way to allow 2 police men to pass in order to install yet another police line.

"I can't believe no one has questioned us," Zack complained, "I mean we're the ones that found him."

"You know what," Cody remarked, "you're right, for once. Hey mister," he called, trying to get a reporter's attention, "we have more information than any of these people. We found this note and-"

But Cody never got to finish his sentence. Before he could react, a hand was over his mouth and he was being dragged by the collar into the elevator. Once the doors had slid shut, Zack released his brother and started to yell at him.

"What do you think you're doing?!?" Zack hissed.

"You were the one complaining," Cody hissed back, getting up from the floor, "I just wanted to tell them about the note and-"

"No!" Zack's voice was rising, "We're not going to tell anyone about that. Since we found him, we should have a chance to be heroes. So let's solve this mystery ourselves."

"Are you out of your non-existent mind?!?" Cody retorted.

"Look, I need your brains and my…my…whatever," Zack said, ashamed with his comeback, "C'mon Code, we can do this."

Cody looked at his brother. Zack was _actually_ serious. "Fine," he moaned, "We can try."

…..

Sam Turner pushed through the crowds of reporters trying to get into The Tipton. Once inside, it took him a little while to locate his co-worker, Amanda Dimarco.

He must have tapped about 5 blonde heads before he found her.

"Hey," he said, coming up behind her and grabbing an apple off a nearby table.

"Hi Sam," she said, "sorry to call you so early and all, it's just that it's serious and-"

"Hey," Sam replied, "don't worry about it. It's fine," then he looked around, "Where is he?"

"In the elevator," Amanda pointed as Sam turned. He saw doctors carrying out a stretcher covered with a sheet.

"This doesn't look like a Saturday morning treat," he said and went to find the manager to question him.

"Mr. Moseby?" Sam asked to the back of a short, black man's head.

"Yes?" Mr. Moseby turned around and looked Sam up and down. Once he figured out he wasn't a reporter trying to practically kill him, he let Sam speak, "what do you want?"

"I just want to ask you a few questions," Sam reassured him, "Can we sit down?"

"Of course," Mr. Moseby motioned to two chairs with matching fabric in the center of the lobby.

"Well," Sam started, taking out a notebook out of an inside pocket of his coat, "Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt Esteban?"

"No," Mr. Moseby groaned, looking disappointed with himself.

"Okay," Sam said, trying to get the man to work with him, "how about any of the employees? The Guests? Anyone at all?"

Mr. Moseby just sat there, trying to think. He wasn't sure what to say. He didn't know anything but he wanted to help so badly. He just couldn't take it. Esteban was a loyal employee. He had helped London try to go to sleep when no one else wanted to volunteer, he…he…well, he had done a lot of things and had always worked extremely hard to please Mr. Moseby. This is how he gets repaid; stabbed through the heart in his own elevator. Mr. Moseby finally came up with an answer; he just shook his head and walked away.

_**I hope you like it! The ending sux, I know, but bear with me. It's going somewhere! Next chapter you find out where Kurt has been all this time and why he had a "benefit" concert. Hehehe! Please review!!!**_


	3. Moping and Mourning

_**I'm trying to update as fast as I can, but this would be difficult for you too if you had ski team, midterms, and homework/school to deal with, so just be patient! Oh, and also, thanks to my reviewers, not mentioning any names (cough…cough…captain lyd…cough…cough), I am adding some Maddie in, so enjoy and, as always, PLEASE REVIEW!**_

**Chapter 3:**

**Moping and Mourning**

**Maddie's POV:**

The day I had been dreading for over a week was here. I just listened to my alarm play the radio, too distraught to turn it off. I raised my head slightly and looked at my straight, black dress drooped over my desk chair, waiting for me to slip regretfully into it. I could just barely see the pin that showed the flag of Esteban's country and their motto written in some foreign language. It blurred slowly as tears formed in my eyes.

I couldn't bear it any longer. I swung my feet out of bed and into my fuzzy pink slippers. They felt even colder than usual. I shivered and nearly had a heart attack when my phone rang.

"Hello?" I answered, trying to hold back tears.

The line went dead.

_Wow_, I thought, _why would someone do that? I don't think people should even have a right to call someone at 7 AM on a Sunday_. I suddenly got furious at the thought of someone with a mind sick enough to prank call, of all people, me on a Sunday! Boiling hot anger revved up inside of me and I threw my phone at the opposite wall, immediately regretting it. I hurried over and grabbed it, sitting down on my bean bag chair; I looked through the caller I.D. There was no name.

_Whatever, I don't have time for this_, I thought, tossing the now slightly damaged phone onto my bed and starting to get dressed. I pulled on slightly tinted black leggings and the black dress. A small bit of red showed at the bottom of the V-neck; Esteban's favorite color. I slipped into my black "Cinderella" shoes and attempted to run a brush through my hair. I decided to leave it down, just as an excuse to cover my face.

I did put a small amount of make-up on; just enough mascara on my top eyelashes to show. I didn't want my face to be all streaky if I started bawling at the funeral. Everyone was going to be there, including Esteban's mother. At any other time I would have been happy to meet her, but under these circumstances…

"Maddie!" my grandmother called down the hallway, making me almost start to cry again, "come get breakfast! You need something in your stomach before you go off to your friend's service!" She didn't seem to think going to your friends funeral was that big of a deal. _Thanks Grandma_,_ way to make it sound like I'm just going to work._ I quickly capped the mascara, grabbed my purse, and headed into the kitchen for breakfast.

…..

It was no surprise to see that there was almost no one at The Tipton when I got there; I just went to the main desk and signed out. The assistant manager, Mr. Freidman, looked up at me as I was scribbling my name on the sign-out list.

"Oh sorry, candy counter girl," he sneered, "but the sign-out list seems to be almost full and I cannot afford to loose another employee. You'll just have to take another day off."

I stared at him, momentarily speechless. His eyes seemed to be colorless, just a hint of icy blue around the pupil. They were staring right back at me, expecting me to back away and obey. Yeah, right. I continued to write my name and the time, pretending that I didn't hear him.

He grabbed the pen out of my hand, "I said the sigh-out list is full. Now report to your candy counter immediately!"

I finished writing my finished writing the time, capped the pen, and gave it back to him. "Goodbye, Mr. Friedman. I will see you after lunch." I turned and, after putting up the 'closed' sign at my candy counter and taking a Snickers bar, I pushed my way through the revolving doors and away from Mr. Friedman's drawling yell.

I revved up the engine of my mother's old station wagon and pulled out of the employee parking lot, just in time to see the stupidly dressed assistant manager plunge through the revolving doors himself and try to make me come back inside. He didn't have half of a chance. I was pulling into the driveway of the funeral home before he got down the front steps.

**Sam's POV:**

It was still another twenty minutes until the service started, but people were still pouring in. _Was there some unspoken rule that you arrive early at a funeral, or is that the reception?_ _Whatever._ I looked up from my blackberry cell phone to see a disheveled looking girl come rushing in; as if afraid it might have started without her. She found Carey Martin and her boys and sat down with them, looking relieved. I had gotten to know the Martins _very_ well over the course of this Esteban case. I had even eaten dinner with them a couple times; Cody was very interested in my work. The trouble was, this case hadn't gotten many responses from anyone. It didn't look like we were going to get anywhere.

I scrolled through my emails one more time; just to make sure I didn't miss any. No luck. I opened one I had started a few days ago with Carey. She had emailed me looking for advice. I scrolled down to the original message:

Sam

Hope you are well and the case is going good. I just needed to ask you a question. Kurt hasn't showed up for a while and I'm starting to get worried. I know he's fine because he sent an email from his hotel saying that he got snowed in at the airport and can't get a plane to Boston until Monday, but to me, that sounds a little suspicious. I've also tried to call him, but his cell phone is off. What do you think?

Carey.

I had responded:

Carey-

Don't worry about Kurt. I'm sure he's just what he says he is- snowed in. And about the cell phone, if he's snowed in, he probably can't get reception, so that's why his phone appears to be off. I'm sure, if he had good reception, he would call you and the boys to reassure you guys that he okay. Again, don't worry, I'm sure he's fine.

Sam

PS- In answer to your question, yes, I'll be at your place for dinner on Sunday.

That was tonight. _I hope she makes her "Famous Spaghetti and Meatballs" Zack and Cody are always talking about. I could really go for Itali-_

My thoughts were interrupted by a blast from the organ above my head. It played a beautifully sad song to get everyone in the mood and when it finished, the priest stood up and the started saying a prayer in Esteban's native language. I looked up front to see Esteban's family. His mom was silently sobbing into a man's shoulder. He looked to be about early forties; I'm assuming that he's Esteban's brother. An elderly woman with puffy eyes sat next to him; that must be his grandmother. They were all dressed in clothing that looked like animal skins. No surprise there.

The service was no different until they got to the "Traditional (some long confusing country name) Part". The priest passed around a book that also looked like it was made of animal skins. He said (first in Esteban's language, then in English) that we all were welcome to write a message in the book. It would be burned alsong with Esteban's body. What ever the message was, Esteban would get it and repay you somehow.

I was one of the first ones to get it. Talk about "No Pressure". I took it carefully and tried to write neatly.

Esteban, I hope you are well. (Well that was a lame way to start.) Your case is going well (sort of) and I hope you find peace and prosperity in your heaven. Sincerely, Sam Turner, Detective

Not my best letter, but I passed it on and thought about dinner at Carey's.

**Maddie's POV:**

_I wasn't ready for this at all. What would he think of me if I wrote what I wanted to write? Didn't he say it was against his culture? Oh no, _I had started (out of the blue) sobbing again. The book was creeping closer and closer by the second, like some spirit coming to haunt me. I didn't know what to do.

When the book was put into my hands, I almost had a mental break down. _Breathe Maddie,_ I told myself, _just breathe._

Esteban I hope you are happier than you were here and that you have all you ever wanted. All I really wanted to say to you were 3 words. Three simple words. I lov-

I was interrupted by someone screaming. It took me a minute to realize it was Carey. She had started sobbing and mouthing the words "Oh my God" over and over. I saw that the detective that was on Esteban's case, Sam I think it was, was kneeling beside her. He had his cell phone in his hand. Something was seriously wrong.

_**Heeheehee! Cliffhanger baby!!! If you caught my drift, than you should know what the "Something seriously wrong" is. But if you didn't, that's okay, just keep reading and you'll find out.**_


	4. Pain

**_Thanx to my loyal reviewers! Love you guys! Ummmmm…yeah, I added some Zack (and Cody, but mostly Zack) in here, so enjoy. Well I'm glad you guys like the story so far and PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!_**

**_PS (Just another disclaimer.) I DO NOT OWN THE SUITE LIFE OF ZACK AND CODY!!!(Or any of its characters.) I do own my characters though along with the poem in this chapter so if you copy it, I'm not afraid to sue you!_**

**Chapter 4:**

**Pain**

**Zack's POV:**

It wasn't possible; not at all. My eyes were glazed over as Cody and I one of our favorite shows, Family Guy. I was seeing it and hearing it, I just wasn't processing it. I wasn't even processing the police officers constantly blocking our view; they were just blurs. "Trying to clues" was there excuse for poking around every nook and cranny of our suite, but I know what Sam was doing. I lifted my head slightly just to see what I thought: he was talking to Mom, his arm leaning high on the wall right by her shoulder. He was smiling and nodding, while Mom was laughing. That was the only thing I was processing right now.

I couldn't take it anymore. It had finally occurred to me that I was paying a slight bit of attention to Family Guy because, after the same police man walked by the TV for the umpteenth time, I got annoyed and went into my room. Behind my closed door, I finally felt a false sense of security, not like that was very comforting. I crossed the room to mine and Cody's closet and opened it. I reached up to the top shelf and grabbed a box of old X-Men comics. _Glad Mom doesn't throw anything away_, I thought, pulling the stacks of comics out until, on the bottom of the last stack, I saw it.

It still smelled like hell. The small piece of paper felt smooth, but slightly raised where the words were written in Esteban's blood. He had very red blood. I looked at it again, trying to take in every word.

_This is just the st**A**rt. I'm not done yet. The game has just** B**egun._

It had taken me forever to look at it again; it was too painful. I threw the note down on my bed and grabbed an empty notebook off my desk. It took times like this to get me to really think. It didn't make any sense because I was so confused; so messed up; so scared. These thoughts were all swirling inside my head. I couldn't think straight. Only one thought kept bubbling to the surface of my brain: _Dad was gone._ A member of his ban d had reported him missing a little over an hour ago, or was it 2 hours? I couldn't remember.

All I knew was that my life was falling apart, shattering like glass. The only person who ever cared about me was gone, or worse, dea- _No,_ I thought, _ don't go there. _I couldn't take it anymore; my emotions were too strong. I had to get it out on paper. My pencil took over my body and I didn't even know who I was anymore.

_Pain_

_Creeping no faster_

_Than candlelight_

_Illuminating a dark room._

_Hot oil_

_Burning through paper-thin_

_Flesh._

_It overtakes your mind_

_And you wonder_

_If you'll ever see light_

_Again._

_It's too powerful_

_You collapse_

_Your knees buckling_

_Mind snapping_

_Under the pressure_

_Burning._

_Soothing._

_Hell._

_The light is fading._

_You feel the liquid slipping_

_Through your fingers._

_You're loosing connection..._

I looked at the note again and, at the bottom of the page, I scribbled the letters "A B". They had to mean something. Maybe they were a secret association of some sort. Maybe they really didn't mean any harm, but wanted to make Dad a spy or something I could hear Cody as if he were standing right next to me, "Oh, get real Zack!" I had begun pacing the length of my room without noticing. For the fist time (in a long time, not the first time ever) I was deep in thought. _Way _too deep in thought. I needed to sooth my mind with video games and candy.

I walked out to basically the same scene that I had left to. Cody was still trying to watch TV while Sam was "questioning" Mom about "the case". (More like dinner and a movie.) Mom didn't look too happy though. Her eyes were still reed and puffy from crying. How could have she and Dad just split up? She still loved him, no matter how much she tried to hide it.

I crossed the room and dug through Mom's purse. Once I found some extra change, I quickly left the mad house and headed for the candy counter and the game room. I pushed my thumb into the elevator button and waited. Nothing happened. _Hmm, _I thought, pushing it again, _that's odd_. After trying it a third time with no results, I moved on to the other elevator and waited again. I heard the little 'Ding!' and the door opened to reveal a woman in her late twenties fiddling with her cell phone. She wasn't too tall, with hair about my color, and freckles covering her nose; she also had a mole on her left cheek. As the doors slid shut, she smiled at me, and then went back to her cell phone. I looked straight ahead, thinking about the Milky Way I was going to buy from Maddie. Just before I got out, I swore I heard a small click come from the lady's cell phone, but I was too busy to give this a second thought.

_**Caution: The story from this point is rated M. There more violence and death, which is much more severe. Don't say I didn't warn you!**_

The doors of the elevator slid open and I went to right while the lady went to left and exited The Tipton. The lobby was also swarming with officers, and they weren't even letting people into the hotel. I'm glad Cody and I hadn't gone to school today, we might have not been able to get back in. I descended the stairs and was about to throw my dollar bill onto the candy counter when I noticed that the 'Closed' sign was up. _Damnit!_ _I was really looking forward to my Milky Way!_ I was about to go off to the game room when something caught my eye. Taped on the back of the 'Closed' sign was a note. I picked it up and to see that it said, in what looked like scribbled man's handwriting, _Come to suite 240._

That's just what I did. Forgetting about the game room almost instantly, I grabbed the note in my fist and headed for the elevator once again and, right before I got on, I saw an 'Out of Order' sign on the other elevator door. _That explains it._

Suite 240 was one of the nicest suites in the hotel. _Why would Maddie be in there? And why was the new note not written in her handwriting?_ I was so confused. The sound of my foot tapping impatiently was muffled by the carpeted floor of the elevator. Once the doors opened, I rushed out and headed for the suite. The thought hit me when I was only a few paces away, _How was I supposed to get in?_ My problem was solved when I reached the door; Maddie's converse held the door open. I carefully opened the door, but regretted my actions immediately.

The scene that met my eyes would be imprinted in my mind for many years to come, but at that very moment, I wasn't thinking ahead. I fact I wasn't thinking at all. I was dumbstruck and sick to my stomach all at once. Maddie's other shoe was obviously thrown at the widow which had a spider-web crack spread across it. Her favorite jeans were crumpled into a ball on one side of the couch, inside-out. The cushions were thrown helter-skelter around the room, along with Maddie's favorite shirt; the blouse with hearts of different sizes on it. Her bra was sitting beside her head, partially covered by her hair.

She laid spread across the couch, her face expressionless. Her hair was sticking up in all directions, half of her blond curls looping around her face. I carefully approached her, noticing with horror that she was covered with purple and blue bruises, freshly imprinted on her beautiful cream-colored skin. I could see internal bleeding spreading throughout her arms as her face went whiter by the second. There were dark finger prints coating her throat, making her face look even paler. It took a few seconds to hit me that she was completely naked. When we learned about rape in school, we had a few descriptions, but I never gave it a thought that I would have to see it in person. There was a big palm-sized bruise on her left shoulder blade and a smaller, circular one on her right shoulder blade. Whoever had done this to her had held her down, raped her, choked her, and then, to my further terror, stabbed her right above the heart.

On the floor next to her, I saw, was a small scrap of paper. I picked it up and saw it was another threatening note written in the same scribble as the two past ones. Or at least attempted because it was, like the first one, written in blood; Maddie's blood.

_The clock i**S **ticking. You've lost at least 2 players, but the game continu**E**s…_

**_Mwahahahaha!!! Another death! Sorry I had to kill Maddie, but it adds up in the end, trust me. Please be nice, and, just trust me, this is not the worst of it. If you don't like death, I strongly suggest that you stop reading this because the deaths just get worse. Again, SORRY!!! But keep a close eye on the lady in the elevator. She gets very important later on. PLEASE REVIEW!!!_**


	5. Author's Note

Hey Everyone! I just wanted to say that **_I'm SOOOOOOOOO SORRY!!!!!!_** You probably hate me right now for holding off on this story and leaving you at such a cliffhanger. I have a reason for this though!!! I got offered a writing contest opportunity and, you know, I couldn't refuse! Ask Dragonjewl24 or momiji'sunusedhalo if you want proof of this…Or just believe me 

If you haven't tuned in for a while (most of you probably haven't) but Maddie has just gotten brutally raped and killed and you still don't know who the killer is….So I am in the process of writing this 5th chapter right now! Toodles!

tonks42392


	6. Temporary Happiness

**_Hey guys…thanx for the reviews…I really hope you guys are paying attention to that lady (because you didn't say anything in u're reviews). Well, I'm glad you guys like this (at least I hope you do-I get that gist from your reviews). Anyways, the plot continues…_**

**Chapter 5:**

**Temporary Happiness**

**Sam's POV:**

How could I have let this happen? The chief of police will probably have me fired before I crack any of these cases. At least Mr. Moseby is being somewhat sympathetic. Well…not really, but he's trying. Too many complaints haunt him every night…I'm surprised he can still breathe without suffocating from the menacing air. He's not letting anyone in or out of the Tipton, including me! I am the lucky person that gets to stay here 24-7 and question random strangers about the two murders. But this was my job and I had to suffer through it. Just then, my cell phone rang.

"Turner," I said, trying to sound somewhat awake at 7:00 AM.

"Hey Dad." It was Marc.

"Hey bud-"

"Dad, will you let me in? This stupid security guard says I'm not allowed!" He was half whispering and I could picture him standing about a foot away from the guard as the guard heard every word he said.

"Hang on, buddy," I was so glad to see my kid for the first time in ten days, "I'll be right down."

I hung up and practically skipped to the only elevator to retrieve my son. I couldn't wait to introduce him to Carey and the twins and maybe even take him to the park or something. I just wanted to spend some time with him. The elevator door opened and I stepped in; I was alone with the security guard. He grunted as I entered and I pressed the ground button. He seemed to be watching me closely and by the time we had descended 20 floors, I could tell his eyeballs were glaring into my back as I got out.

Marc was waiting for me when I showed the guard my badge and let him. "I told him all about you," he informed me in a triumphant voice, "How you're a detective and you have to stay here while me and mom are at home and how you've arrested guys and how-"

"Alright sport," I smiled, "That's enough. Come with me, I want to introduce to some people."

We got in the elevator, but this time we weren't alone with the security guard. A young lady that looked about 20-something years old smiled at us as we got on. She had very pretty, long blonde hair about the color of Carey's; she was fiddling with her cell phone and giggling every once and a while. At once, Marc started talking to her as if they'd known each other for years.

"Hey," the-eleven-year-old said, "did you know that my dad," He pointed to me with a confident finger, "that's him. Yeah, he's gonna solve this case with all the deaths of that guy with the wicked long name and that girl. Yup, he's gonna be a hero!"

"You're the detective that's investigating that case?" her voice seemed to shake with nervousness. I made a mental note to personally find her and question her later.

"Yes," I answered, "Do you know anything about either of those deaths?"

"Um," she said, her eyes darting from side to side, deciding whether she could trust me, "Well, I do know-"

_Ding!_ This is our stop. _Dammit!_

"Please call me," I said, handing her my card as I lead Marc out of the elevator, "You seem to know some information and we could really use your help."

I didn't look back but I could feel her cold glare boring into my back as we headed towards Carey's suite. Marc thought it was amazing that I had been so calm and cool like that questioning her. I knew that wasn't really questioning, but I didn't have time to explain. I didn't want him to know what questioning really was right now. He was just too young; I had to let him live his life for a few more years before I scared him out of his skin.

Zack answered when we knocked and let us in without making eye contact with me. I sent Marc off with him to meet Cody after he'd been introduced to Carey. She poured me a cup of coffee and we sat down. She told me how Zack is so depressed about his dad and Maddie and how Cody was just in denial about the whole thing and a bunch of other crap that I didn't really care about. I just stared and nodded occasionally, soaking up her beauty. Finally, I got my guts together and did what I had been planning for a while.

"Carey," I said, trying to be sincere, "I know you're worried about your kids and-"

"It's not just them," she reassured me, "It's this whole thing…Things like this just don't happen at The Tipton…Not to mention Kurt."

I could feel hot anger start to creep up my throat, but I held it back, "Carey, look," I wasn't sure how to do this, "I need to question you, but do you think we could do it over dinner or something?"

She got my gist.

_**Heeheehee!!! Another cliffy baby:p But, again, sorry I took so long to update. But I already have chapter 6 planned in my head…and it will be very interesting and kinda shocking, so stay posted!!!**_


	7. Tears of Pure Lament

_**Well, this was a little faster update than the last one…Yes, I know, shame on me for not updating!!! bows head/pouts I hope that you are paying attention to the fine details because those will add up in the end! Well, hope you enjoy this next, kinda sad, chapter! **_

**Chapter 6:**

**Tears of Pure Lament**

**Cody's POV:**

I watched Marc try to avoid eating his asparagus. I didn't blame him; I hated asparagus. It was one of the only veggies I didn't like. With all those strands getting caught in your teeth, you might as well eat grass and dirt.

"You don't have to eat it," I said, watching his disgusted face, "Your parents aren't here, so don't worry about having to eat _all_ your vegetables."

"Thanks," he replied, finishing his coke with a slurp, "I wish you were my dad. He makes me eat everything!"

"Yeah," Zack finally piped in after not saying a word this whole dinner. He seemed pissed, "Well your dad is just-"

"Hey Marc," I interrupted, reaching into my pocket and pulling out some change, "I've got a lot of extra quarters. Wanna go down to the game room and play some video games?"

"Sure!" Marc exclaimed, jumping down from the table and grabbing the coins from my hand. He was gone in a blink of an eye.

I turned on Zack, "Jesus Zack, why? Why did you have to start with his dad?!?" I was starting to get pissed myself, "He thinks his father is the coolest person on earth and if you paid one speck of attention, you'd realize this! He's only eleven and he thinks his dad is only _questioning_ Mom. Let's keep it that way."

"Yeah?!?" Zack practically shouted back in a sarcastic tone, "Well what if this starts to happen regularly, huh?!? Do you want Dad to be replaced?"

"That's not the point," I shot back, "Dad and Mom are not getting back together. That's that. End of story. Will you just get over that?!?"

"Me get over it?!?" He was yelling now, "You've wanted them to get back together ever since they split up! I'm just worried we'll never see Dad again. Sam isn't even bothering to work on his kidnapping case. All that counts are the murders; like they actually matter…"

"Zack," I was starting to get a little sympathetic, "that's not true and you know it. Sam has other people working on Dad's case. He just can't do more than one case at once."

"Yeah," I could see tears in Zack's eyes, "but Dad could be dying right now and Sam wouldn't even care because that would give him a better fucking chance with Mom. Don't you get it Cody?!? All he's doing these cases for is to be able to stay in The Tipton with Mom. If he's supposed to be the best detective in the state, why aren't any of these cases solved? Just put two and two together…"

"Well," I could tell there was no win for me in this argument, "I guess you have a point. But Sam just isn't the kind of person in my opinion. Whatever you think is fine, but you're not going to convince me otherwise."

I was done with him. I left the suite and headed for the game room to maybe help Marc win some tickets. Zack just couldn't handle anything right now. He was depressed about Dad and Maddie, although he denied that he needed help. Mom wasn't really sure what to do. If she put him in therapy, he would hate her for eternity, but if she just let him be, he'd go completely insane. I was dealing with everything the best I could, but even so, if some miracle didn't happen soon, my world will probably fall to pieces.

I found Marc concentrating hard at a shooting game. His tongue was sticking out slightly and he was scowling at the screen intensely. For a few moments, I just watched him playing, thinking how left out he must feel. I had heard him talking to his Dad before Sam had left, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that his dad never took him to work. It pained me to think how much he loved his dad, but how much Sam disappointed him. After the game ended, he turned around, saw me, and ran over excitedly.

"Hey Cody," he said eagerly, "Look how many tickets I've got!!" He showed me a fistful of tickets.

"Wow!" I said, really impressed, "Let's go get the best prize you can buy with all those tickets!"

After playing a few more two-player games, we both ran to the counter. It turned out that he had 117 tickets and actually could get a lot of pretty neat prizes. He chose two tickets for free ice creams at The Tipton restaurant without hesitation.

"Why two?" I asked with an answer floating in my mind, but I didn't want to assume.

"One for me and one for you," he said happily, smiling at me.

Once we got our ice creams, we went outside and sat on the front steps to eat our cones. "You know Cody," Marc said, unaware of the ice cream dripping down his hand, "that was the most fun I've had in a long time. You actually listen to what games I want to play and let me get ice cream and want to play with me and act like you really want me in your life," He smiled at me, but I could see the pain behind his eyes, "My dad just doesn't get it sometimes. I love him so much, but he never takes me anywhere and shuts me out of his life every now and then. Sometimes, I think he completely forgets I exist."

I saw tears form in Marc's eyes and he tried to hold them back. I patted him on the shoulder as he really started to cry. Sobs of pure anger and confusion poured from his eyes and he didn't care if people were staring. I just let him cry. I knew there was nothing I could do to make him feel better. His sobs turned into waterfalls of passionate lament and he put his head on my shoulder. I cautiously put my arm around his frail, shaking body. He just needed to let out his uncertainty. He needed to clear his mind by letting out all of his anger, and crying was the only thing he could do right now to calm himself.

_**How's that for sad? Do you guys like Marc? Please tell me if I need to develop him more because he's going to come in shortly in the next chapter, but he might not be in a lot of the later chapters…So tell me what I should do. Can I leave him like he is now? Or should I tell you more about him? I could work with either way, so please answer those questions! Thanx!!! And, as always, REVIEW PLZ!!! **__****_


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